


Story of My Life

by hopefor_days



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 23:34:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 10,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7990327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefor_days/pseuds/hopefor_days
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When England decides to take a vacation in California, he doesn't realize just how much his life is about to change. He finds his soul mate in a young American named Elizabeth. After dating for a few years, they finally decide to get married. But when an addition to the family comes along, things take a turn for the worse. An old friend wants the child, seeing the profit in a half country-half human hybrid. True love, family, betrayal, even death. Will the Allies be able to defend themselves? Or will the Axis, along with a new member, start World War III?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chance Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> When I first started, this was originally an England/reader fic, but I ended up changing that for the purposes of plot. So I created the character Elizabeth.  
> Also, this was originally going to be a bunch of one shots following the same plot, but that also kind of changed a bit (?). So the first chapters especially are really short.

Elizabeth walked along Cannery Row, taking in the sea breeze. It wasn't often that she visited Monterey, California, but when she did, she enjoyed it. She watched the waves lap against the shore. Turning her head to look in front of her, she could see Fisherman's Wharf just on the horizon. She looked back at the ocean and sighed. It was always overcast here and the water was almost always too cold to swim in, but she still loved it. Not paying much attention to her surroundings, she bumped into somebody, causing that person to drop what they were holding.

"Bloody hell," she heard a British accent say. 

"I am so sorry!" she exclaimed, bending down to help the person she had bumped into. 

"It's fine," the boy said in his accent. "That's what I get for walking around with my nose in a book." 

She laughed, picking up the other books littering the ground. She assumed he had been carrying these in his arms while he was walking. She stood up and he too rose to his feet. 

"Here's your boo-" she started before seeing his face. 

He had an almost angular face, clear cut chin and cheek bones. He had abnormally bushy eyebrows, but rather than detracting from his appearance they actually added to it. His eyebrows were balanced out by his sparkling emerald eyes. He too, was staring at her intently. Neither wanted to break the spell that had them both entranced. Finally, the Brit managed to find his voice. 

"Hello, I'm Arthur. Arthur Kirkland."


	2. Discovery

"Come on Arthur. You can do this," Arthur muttered to his reflection in the mirror. "All you have to do is tell her you're a country. How hard is that?"  

In truth, Arthur was scared out of his mind. He was falling for her. Hard. But he knew he couldn't ask her to be his without laying it all out on the table. What if it scared her away? What if she never wanted to see him again? Arthur's heart broke just thinking of that.  

But what if she wasn't scared away? What if she thought him mad? She wouldn't want to be with a crazy person.  

He walked out of the bathroom and into the sitting room. Elizabeth was lounging on one of the chairs while reading a book. He leaned against a wall and watched her. They had become the best of friends after they had met by chance some months before. Soon, she was going to university and they wouldn't see each other as often. Arthur had an idea, but he would need to be sure she would want to be with him, and for that she needed the whole truth.  

She glanced up at him, closing her book. "Hey Arthur," she grinned.  

"Hello," he managed a weak smile, sitting on the arm of the chair she currently occupied. "I have something I need to tell you."  

"Alright, shoot," she waved her hand for him to continue.  

"I'm not exactly human," he managed to get out. He glanced at her to gage her reaction, but she continued to watch him expectantly. "You see, for every country in the world, there is a human personification of said country. These personifications aren't like normal people. They don't age the same and they can never die under normal circumstances. They can only die from war or simply fading away. What I'm trying to tell you is that I'm one of those personifications. I personify England."  

He looked at her warily, waiting for her to call him mad, or scream at him to go away.  

"About time," she muttered, turning back to her book.  

"I-I beg your pardon?" Arthur stuttered.  

"I figured that out  _ ages _ ago," she replied. "It wasn't that hard." He stared at her blankly and she sighed. Rolling up her sleeve, she revealed two bracelets. One showed pictures of Flying Mint Bunny. The other had a picture of Prussia and said 'I am awesome!'. "I've seen Hetalia," she explained. "It wasn't hard for me to put the pieces together."  

Arthur sighed in relief. "So you don't mind?"  

"Of course not!" she laughed, punching Arthur lightly in the arm.  

"Then I have one more question for you," Arthur grinned. "Would you like to go out with me?"  

She pulled Arthur into the chair she was sitting on and adjusted so she was on his lap. "Of course!" she smiled, kissing his cheek.


	3. Marry Me?

He pulled the chair out for her and she sat.  

"Thanks," Elizabeth smiled warmly at him.  

Arthur sat across from her and gazed at her across the candle-lit table. She picked up the menu, but glanced at him when she saw him staring at her.  

"What is it?" she asked, suppressing a laugh.  

"Just looking at the most beautiful creature to ever grace the earth," Arthur smiled.  

This time she really did laugh before turning back to the menu. They had been going out for a few years now. She had been going to a university in London so they could be together. He had managed to keep the relationship secret from the other countries, but now he wanted to take it to the next step. The ring box weighed heavily in his pocket.  

A waiter came by to take their drink orders. Arthur finally picked up his menu and looked at it. She glanced once again over her menu at him. She furrowed her brow before turning back to her own menu. Arthur had been acting strange all night. In fact, he had been behaving strangely for the past week. She brushed it off as nothing as the waiter brought their drinks and took their orders. They sat in silence for a while, staring at each other while holding hands over the table. There was never an awkward moment between the two of them. They had their ups and downs like any normal couple, but they could sit comfortably in silence without having to fill it with mindless chatter.  

The food arrived and they dug in. About halfway through the meal, Arthur finally got up the courage.  

"Love?" he asked, setting down his cutlery.  

She looked up. "Yes?"  

Arthur got out of his chair as he said, "I have something I've been meaning to tell you." He grabbed her hand and got down on one knee. Pulling out the ring box and opening it, he asked, "Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"  

She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. "Yes!" she gasped once she found her voice. "Yes, I will Arthur!"  

He placed the ring on her finger. He stood up, pulling her up with him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her full on the lips. The restaurant broke out in cheers. 


	4. Argument

"You never listen to me!" Elizabeth yelled.

"You never talk to me for me to be able to listen in the first place!" he fired back. 

Yes, they argued from time to time. Usually one would storm into another room and when they had both calmed down, they would talk it out calmly. But tonight was their worse argument yet. Married life had taken its toll on their relationship. 

"I'm done Arthur!" she screamed at him, taking off her wedding ring and throwing it at the ground. 

She stormed into their bedroom and grabbed a duffel bag out of the closet. She started throwing random clothes inside it. Arthur followed her into the room. 

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" he asked, irritated. 

"I'm leaving," she answered angrily. "I can't take it any more. You spend too much time being a country and not enough time being a husband." 

Arthur's anger disappeared as her words hit him like a slap to the face. Before he could say anything, she zipped the duffel and half ran out of the room. He followed her, picking her ring up off the floor. She was opening the door when he stopped her, grabbing her wrist. 

"Arthur," she protested. 

He pulled her closer to him, slipping the duffel off of her shoulder, and kissed her slowly. He poured all of his emotion into the kiss. Trying to make her see that he was sorry. That he loved her more than he loved himself. That if she left, he would have nothing left to live for. 

She relaxed in his arms, the tension disappearing from her shoulders. She kissed him back, memories flashing behind her eyelids. She remembered everything that had made her love him in the first place. All of the little things that made it all worth it. 

He pulled away slowly. "I love you," he murmured, leaning his forehead against hers. "You are the most important thing in my life. I'm not just going to let you walk away." 

"Then prove it," she whispered, tears threatening to spill. 

"What?" Arthur asked. 

She thought it over in her head for a split second. She leaned her head in the crook between his neck and his shoulder before replying. "Make love to me Arthur," she told him. 

Arthur looked down at her, slightly shocked. They had never gone that far. It was partly his fault because he was busy most of the time, but he was still taken aback. His shock faded as a smirk spread across his face. He placed the ring back on her finger before picking her up bridal style. He crashed his lips onto hers as he kicked the front door closed and carried her into the bedroom.


	5. Realization

Arthur sat in his study, pouring over records of all sorts. Just a few months ago, Elizabeth had come to him with exciting news. He thought back to that night:

_"Arthur?" Elizabeth stood tentatively in the doorway, peering at Arthur as he poured over books, much like he was now._

_"Lizzie, love," Arthur sighed with a smile. He patted his knee and she sat on his lap, curling herself into his chest and clutching his shirt._

_His arms snaked around her, a safe haven. The two had been married for almost a year at that point, their last and only true argument having taken place a month before. Recently, Arthur had noticed that Elizabeth had seemed more emotional lately and was sick to her stomach most mornings. In the back of Arthur's mind, he knew what was causing it and hoped he was wrong._

_"Lizzie, what's wrong?" He asked, pulling her closer to him._

_Elizabeth pulled back slightly, looked at him, and confirmed his fears, “Arthur, I’m…I’m pregnant.”_

Arthur sighed as he thought about that. Sure, he was happy to be a father, ecstatic even. However, he was worried for his beloved’s safety. She was just a human. And the child growing inside of her was half-country. It was a well known fact that countries were much stronger than humans and Arthur was afraid that Elizabeth would be hurt somehow. That somehow her body wouldn’t be able to handle the pregnancy. And was it even possible for a half-human/half-coutry hybrid to exist? There were no records of such a thing ever happening. Of course all countries had had romantic relations with humans in the past: Francis and Jeanne d’Arc, Arthur and Queen Elizabeth I. However, there have never been any pregnancies, leading the countries to believe that country DNA and human DNA just didn’t mix. Arthur was searching for something, anything, that would give him some sort of answer, but it seemed there was nothing to be found. He slammed his current book closed and set it heavily on the desk. Leaning back in his chair, he sighed and looked out the window. “What are we going to do?” he asked himself quietly.


	6. Surprise Visit

A knock sounded throughout the apartment. Elizabeth move from her current position in the kitchen to get the door, but Arthur motioned for his pregnant wife to stay there while he got the door instead. Arthur opened the door and stared in amazement at who stood before him. Francis Bonnefoy, the human personification of France, stepped through the doorway and looked at his old friend. 

" _ Bonjour, Angleterre _ ," Francis sighed, shooting a soft smile at Elizabeth. The Frenchman didn’t seem to realize that the woman was pregnant. 

“What do you want, frog?” Arthur asked, trying not to sound too aggravated. 

“We need to discuss some zhings,” Francis replied, shooting a glance at Elizabeth, “Alone,  _ s'il vous plaît _ .” 

Arthur groaned under his breath then sighed in defeat. "Fine. We'll talk in my study." 

"Would you like me to make some tea?" Elizabeth offered as the gentlemen passed. 

Arthur smiled before planting a soft kiss on her cheek. "That would be lovely dear, thank you." 

Arthur began walking down the hallway. Francis shot an inquisitive glance at Elizabeth as he passed, but continued to follow Arthur. Elizabeth returned to the kitchen and began work on making the tea. As she waited for the water to boil, she rested a hand on her bloated stomach. It had been about 5 months and so far the pregnancy was going well. 

“Well, what do we ‘ave ‘ere,” a French accented voice whispered behind her. 

Elizabeth spun around to see that Francis had walked up right behind her, blocking any form of exit. He placed his hands on the counter on either side of the woman. 

“Could it be… _ un bébé _ ?” he whispered, looking down at Elizabeth’s pregnant belly. Before she could reply, he spun around and left the room. 

Elizabeth took in a shaking breath, just then noticing that the tea kettle was whistling. She placed the kettle and a couple of tea cups in a platter along with some tea bags. Carefully picking up the platter, she made her way down the hall to Arthur’s study, but stopped when she heard yelling voices. 

“ _ Angleterre _ , zhink of all the money!” Francis argued. 

“Absolutely not! I would never dream of it!” Arthur replied angrily. 

“But a ‘uman-country ‘ybrid! Zhere’s never been anyzing like it before-” 

“I don’t care! I am not going to sell my own child for a profit!” 

“Zhen I suppose we ‘ave nozhing left to discuss.” 

“I suppose not. I think you should probably leave.” 

The door opened violently and Francis stepped out and slammed the door. He stormed past the petrified Elizabeth, but not before glancing once again at her stomach. She knew he was gone when the front door slammed shut as well. Elizabeth slowly entered Arthur’s study to see him standing at his desk with his back to her, one hand gripping the edge of the desk, the other covering his face. 

“A-Arthur?” Elizabeth tried to ask him, her voice barely more than a whisper. She looked down and realized the tea tray was trembling and she set it down, clasping her hands tightly together. 

Arthur spun to look at his wife and his expression softened. He crossed the room in a few strides, wiping away the tears Elizabeth didn’t even know she had shed. He hugged her tightly to him, pressing his lips to the top of her head. 

“Don’t worry, love,” Arthur reassured her. “I won’t let him hurt you  _ or  _ the baby. I swear it.” 


	7. Betrayal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to not actually type out the accents because it is way to time consuming and slows down the writing process for me.

Francis Bonnefoy walked briskly down the hallway, escorted by a slightly terrifying, German guard. He had so hoped that Arthur would agree with him, but hey,  _ merde _ happens. So Francis had to resort to plan B. He glanced around himself, taking in the dull, monotonous hallway. They really needed some kind of interior decorator. Spruce the place up a bit. 

Passing by a window, Francis caught a glance of the icy Bavarian Alps. The window must not have been sealed properly, because a sharp breeze hit Francis as he passed, giving him chills. His escort seemed to not be affected. Probably used to such things, Francis figured, trained to ignore it no doubt. The headquarters itself was located in an old castle that no doubt had not been updated in centuries. Finally, the guard stopped in front of a door and opened it, stepping to the side. Francis inclined his head toward the guard in way of thanks as he walked through the doorway. 

The room, like the hallway, was very nondescript. It consisted of yet another poorly sealed window and a desk. There were two chairs in front of the desk, one of which Francis sat down in. Across from him sat none other than Ludwig Beilschmidt, personification of Germany. Behind him stood his friend and ally, Feliciano Vargas, personification of Italy. There were times that Francis suspected there was something more than friendship going on between them, being the country of love he could sense such things, but he was never sure. 

“Hallo Herr Bonnefoy,” Ludwig greeted the Frenchman. “You wanted to discuss peace dealings between our countries?” 

“Not so much peace dealings,” Francis corrected. “More an alliance. I have a predicament, you see. There’s something I want and I need someone to help me get it. You’ll get a share of the profit of course, but I just need your strength and numbers.” 

“What exactly do you have in mind?” Ludwig asked. 

“Germany, look, a kitty!” Feliciano cried, chasing after it and leaving the room. “Ve~” 

Ludwig sighed and turned back to Francis. “What is it that you want?” 

Francis leaned forward excitedly. “As we all know, Arthur has been slacking on his responsibilities as a country. I found out why. He’s found a girl.” 

“Sow what,” Ludwig shrugged, suddenly disinterested. “You were the same way when you met, what was her name, Jeanne?” 

Francis winced at the memory, the pain still fresh even after all these years. “Yes, well, he went a few steps further. He’s married.” 

Ludwig’s interest was piqued again. “Go on.” 

“And with child.” 

“You don’t mean-?” 

“A half-human half-country hybrid? I know. But  _ he _ won’t have any part of it. I don’t think he realizes just how much the child is worth.” 

Ludwig smirked. “Boy or girl?” 

“I haven’t the slightest idea. I do know that his  _ wife _ ,” Francis’ lips twisted into a grimace at the word, “is about halfway through the pregnancy. Five months at most.” 

“Hmm,” Ludwig mulled over the new information. “Knowing the gender could increase the cost, but any reputable buyer might be willing to a “down payment” and negotiate a more suitable price after it’s born.” 

“So, are you in?” Francis pressed, anxious for Ludwig’s help. If he didn’t agree to it, Francis was out of options. 

Ludwig stood and Francis mirrored the movement. The German held out his hand with a smile, “Welcome to the Axis Powers.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel really bad because I made France and Germany out to be greedy, selfish, assholes! I apologize for anyone who is a particular fan of either one! I don’t actually see them as this way; they are both such amazing characters! I just had to make them like this for the story line. I hope you guys enjoyed this!


	8. Family

Arthur came home from work to a seemingly empty house. Ever since Francis’ visit a few months before, Arthur returned to his responsibilities, hoping to get the Frenchman off his back. As he walked through the flat, a whimper sounded from the bedroom he shared with Elizabeth. Rushing inside, Arthur saw his very pregnant wife curled into a ball, silent tears streaming down her face. 

“Elizabeth!” Arthur cried out, dropping his briefcase and rushing to her side. "Lizzie, what's wrong? Is it the baby? Is she coming?" Arthur actually had no idea if the baby was a girl, he just took to calling it "her". 

"No," Elizabeth hissed out in pain. "She's just stretching." 

Arthur shook his head, knowing better, and picked her up despite her weak protests. He carried Elizabeth down to his car and set her in the backseat. He jogged around to the front, pulling out his cell phone and dialling a certain American. 

It was pure, dumb luck that Alfred F. Jones had decided to purchase a vacation estate in London a mere month prior. And despite his apparent airheadedness at times, Alfred was the only person Arthur could trust with the current situation. 

"Yo, dude, what's up?" Alfred answered his phone. 

Arthur sighed. "I'm coming over now. It's an emergency. Elizabeth's in labour." He silently thanked himself for introducing Alfred to Elizabeth when Alfred moved into the city. 

"Whoa, whoa, wait. Why are you bringing her to my place? Isn't that what hospitals are for?" 

"You know bloody well I can't take her to a hospital! The child's half country, you twit! They wouldn't have a bloody idea what to do!" 

"Alright! You can stop cursing at me in British!" Arthur thought he heard Alfred pause and take a deep breath. "I might have something that'll work. Bring her over." 

"That was the plan." Arthur sighed before hanging up. 

Alfred's estate was on the outskirts of London, clear across the city. Arthur made it in record time, not having been stopped by a constable because of his government plates. Alfred was waiting for the couple and ran to open Elizabeth's door as soon as the car came to a stop. The super strong country lifted the young woman with ease and carried her into his house, Arthur trailing behind. 

Alfred went straight for a room on the second floor. The first thing Arthur noticed was how clean the room was. Next, he realised, was that the room looked like a replica of some kind of surgical room. 

Alfred was blushing crimson. "I know how weird this seems. I promise I can explain." 

"Please," Arthur sighed. "I could do without knowing about the kinky horror stuff you do-" 

Suddenly, Elizabeth cried out. "It's coming!" 

Both men jumped into action. Arthur made sure Elizabeth was as comfortable as she could possibly be and held her hand while Alfred grabbed all the supplies he thought he might need. 

"You do know what you're doing, don't you?" Arthur asked. 

"No, sorry if I've never had to play the role of a midwife before! What, did you think I deliver babies all the time or something?" Alfred protested, pulling on a pair of elbow length latex gloves. 

Arthur followed his example. "No, I just thought- never mind. There are more pressing matters at the moment!" 

Elizabeth moaned in pain, squeezing Arthur's hand tighter and tighter. Arthur could feel his wedding ring digging painfully into his skin.  _ Damn, that woman is strong _ , Arthur thought. 

"Her contractions are getting more frequent. That means something, right?" Alfred called out. 

"How dilated is she?" Arthur asked. 

"What?" 

"Hold your fingers up to her...you know...and see how wide it is." 

"Uh...four fingers."

"Yeah, it's time," Arthur sighed. "Elizabeth. You need to push, love."

Elizabeth cried out, sweat dripping down her face from exertion. "You owe me big time for this," she growled at Arthur. 

"I'll give you massages all you want for a month, I just need you to push!" 

Finally, after much coaxing on Arthur's part, the baby started to come. 

"I can see the head," Alfred announced. 

"Don't just stand there, grab a blanket or something to swaddle it!" 

Alfred grabbed a white towel from behind him and held it out like a catchers mitt. Elizabeth pushed, Arthur helped by pressing down on her abdomen, and Alfred used the towel to clean off the baby as soon as it came out. He transferred the newborn to a fluffy, white blanket and handed the baby to it's father. 

"How- how is she?" Elizabeth asked, pushing herself into a sitting position. 

"Not she," Alfred smiled from the corner of the room. "He." 

Arthur smiled down at the bundle in his arms, his son. "My baby boy." 

 

"Daniel James Kirkland." 


	9. Agreement

Arthur paced the length of the meeting room, deepening the path he was making in the carpet. He was anxious. Well, anxious was an understatement. No one had heard from Francis for a while and the former Axis powers were oddly quiet as well. 

“Arthur, please sit down,” Elizabeth tried to get him to relax. “I’m sure things will be-” 

“Elizabeth, darling, whatever you do please don’t say the word fine,” Arthur ran his hands through his hair. 

She sighed, bouncing up and down slightly in her chair to keep the baby from waking up. Arthur was not usually nervous before meetings, but this one was a big exception. Elizabeth opened her mouth to say something in order to get Arthur to relax when the door opened. 

In walked the more than slightly obnoxious American who had suggested Arthur hold this meeting. Behind him was a much quieter man who was dressed as though he was about to go hiking through snow. Arthur felt proud of himself for readily recognising Matthew Williams (a.k.a. Canada) on sight. Matthew was usually so quiet and looked so much like his brother Alfred that Everyone found it easy to confuse the two. 

Quick introductions were made between Elizabeth and Matthew. Not long after, they were followed in the room by a large Russian man and a smaller Chinese man. They were fellow Allied members, Ivan Braginsky and Yao Wang. Elizabeth was introduced to both of them and all of the assembled countries took their respective seats. No one mentioned the empty seat behind the French flag that seemed to take up the whole room. 

Once everyone was settled, Arthur stood up and cleared his throat nervously. “Well, I’m glad you all could make it on such short notice. But, um, like I said before, this is a very urgent matter.” Arthur paused, taking a deep breath. Alfred nodded encouragingly and Elizabeth rubbed his arm reassuringly. “Uh, well, you’ve all met my wife, Lizzie.” Elizabeth nodded to the other countries. She shifted the slightly invisible bundle in her lap. She and Arthur had decided that it would be a good idea o not show everyone the baby right away. “And I understand that perhaps you don’t agree with the choices I’ve made, but now is not the time to debate that. 

“We have a larger matter at hand here. As you can see, Francis has not joined us at this meeting. And I think I know why. I’m fairly certain that his allegiances have changed.” 

“But why would he do that?” Yao interrupted, folding his arms across his chest. 

Arthur sighed and opened his mouth to reply, but Elizabeth beat him to it. She stood up and shifted the blankets of the bundle in her arms so Daniel’s face was visible. “Because of this.” She said, her voice surprisingly strong and steady considering she was talking to the majority of the world. “Francis wants our child so he can sell him. All he wants is to make a profit. He paid us a surprise visit months ago when I was still pregnant. He tried to convince Arthur to agree to sell the child. Arthur refused and Francis left, furious. We haven’t heard from him since.” 

“And there have been some stirrings in other places as well,” Alfred jumped in. “I don’t know if you guys have noticed, but all of the former Axis powers have been strengthening up their militaries lately. From where I am, I’ve been keeping as close of an eye on Japan as I can and it’s not looking good.” 

“And there has been a sudden influx of French naval ships in the English Channel in recent months,” Arthur added. “And I think we all know what this could mean. Which brings me to my second reason for calling this meeting. 

“We haven’t always been the nicest to each other in the past. We’ve…definitely had our differences and we don’t always get along. That being said, now is as great a time as ever to put those differences aside. Yes, we argue. Yes, there are times when we want to rip each other’s throats out. But that is not going to help us now. Judging from the dubious looks I’m getting, you don’t necessarily agree with me and that’s fine. But now is the time for us to band together. Now is the time where we fight, side by side. As brothers. As friends. As countries. 

“Now is the time where we fight.” 

Arthur finished his little speech and sat down, feeling drained. The meeting room sat in silence for a moment as his words sank in. Alfred glanced around nervously, hoping the other countries would agree with Arthur. 

Ivan was the first to speak, “England is right. I would not want anyone to hurt little, tiny baby.” The large man waved his finger above Daniel, who giggled and reached up with his tiny hands and grabbed onto the large finger. The Russian looked like he was about to just die from happiness. 

“Then it’s settled,” Yao glanced around the room. “If the Axis or France make a move against any of us, we agree to fight together.” 

Everyone nodded. “Sounds good to me,” Matthew whispered. 

Just then, a messenger walked in and looked around the room. He spotted Arthur and walked over to him, whispering something in his ear. The messenger left and Arthur stood up again. “Well, we were right. France’s allegiance has shifted. He is now an official member of the Axis powers. And they have declared war.” 


	10. Hiding

The little cottage was bustling with activity. Elizabeth was busy fixing snacks in the kitchen. Arthur was busy trying to entertain their guests. And Daniel was busy being the most adorable six month old he could.

After the Allied forces decided to work together, Arthur and Elizabeth decided it would probably be best to move out of the city and get away. Well, truthfully, they were in hiding. Trying to lay low while the danger of attack from France, Germany, Italy, and Japan was still prevalent. Everyone was keeping a watchful eye over Daniel. No one knew what his mixed heritage could mean. Would he be mortal like his mother? Or would he represent some micronation or territory, taking after his father? It was too early to tell. Thus far, Daniel’s growth had been normal, at least by human standards. There was no such thing as country standards since countries were not born of natural means. 

Every single member of the Allies had fallen in love with Daniel. He had inherited his father’s bright green eyes and his mother’s chocolate brown hair. He had a creamy complexion, accented by little dimples. It was a common sight to see Daniel riding around on Ivan’s shoulders, tiny fists clinging to the Russian’s hair. Yao, who also doted on the boy, would usually play the pipa (a traditional Chinese instrument) for him. Daniel loved the music so much that Yao had to make a CD of himself playing the instrument so Arthur and Elizabeth could use the music as Daniel’s lullabies. Daniel’s bedroom was decorated with souvenirs that Alfred had bought him from many of the major cities within the United States. It was safe to say that Daniel was spoiled. 

Truth be told, everyone was worried how much time they had left. Arthur and Elizabeth made the best of every moment they had with Daniel, because they knew that it could be taken away. 

The Allies were usually gathered together in Arthur and Elizabeth’s living room, just as they were today. Daniel was taking a couple of shaky steps from Ivan to Alfred, his two favourite people. Daniel had worked his little magic over the Allies, making them get along and work together better. Arthur sat in his armchair, watching as his son stumbled. Daniel would have fallen, except that both Alfred and Ivan jumped forward to catch him. 

“Uncle Alfie!” Daniel cried out in happiness when he reached Alfred. The boy’s mental development was quite advanced, and he had been talking for about a month now. 

“Alright, little man!” Alfred cheered, lifting Daniel up in the air. 

“ Отличная работа!” Ivan called out to him. (Good Job!) 

“Alfie! Alfie! Alfie!” Daniel giggled. “I wanna go and pway!” 

Alfred chuckled, glancing at Arthur, “What do you wanna play?” 

Daniel thought long and hard about it. “Cowboys and Indians!” he shouted, naming the game that Alfred had introduced him to. 

Alfred picked Daniel up and swung him up on his shoulders. Alfred jogged around the room for a little bit, accidentally making eye contact with Arthur. Arthur gave Alfred a pained smile and Alfred knew exactly what Arthur was thinking about. Centuries ago, when Alfred was a young boy, he and Arthur would play a very similar game. A bittersweet memory being made anew. 

Alfred broke the eye contact after Daniel started tugging on his hair, getting dangerously close to Nantucket. He gave a jovial smile and exited the room, taking Daniel outside. Arthur sighed and glanced out the window, thinking back to a by-gone time. A time when things were simpler, when their lives weren’t at risk. 


	11. Attack

It had been weeks since the last one came. 

It had started with small things. Some of the flowers in the garden had been pulled up. Graffiti markings appeared along the fence line. Gratuitous images were carved into some of the trees around the property. All of it could be explained away with some adolescent vandals. But the latest attack made it all too clear who the culprit was. 

Arthur had just come home from work the day that it had happened. Daniel had just learned a new word: no. Elizabeth looked about ready to start pulling her own hair out. 

“He refuses to eat what I give him. He refuses to take a nap. He refuses to let me do anything!” Elizabeth vented to Arthur as soon as he got home. “I’ve disciplined him every way I can think of and nothing helps.” 

Arthur glanced over at the boy, who was sitting on the floor and playing with his blocks. Sighing, he hugged Elizabeth, resting his head on top of hers. Arthur opened his mouth to say something when there was a crash from the front room. 

Elizabeth immediately dove to grab Daniel, who had started to cry. Arthur grabbed his gun out of his briefcase and went to investigate the sound. Elizabeth followed close behind Arthur as he slowly made his way into the family room. Arthur held up his hand for her to wait while he made sure it was safe. 

The room appeared empty of attackers, but Arthur could see a cloud of dust out the window as a car sped off the property. The window itself was completely shattered, glass shards littered the floor. A brick laid in the middle of the carnage, obviously the object used to break the window. A note was tied to it. Written in a hand that looked vaguely familiar to Arthur were the words:  _ Vive la Révolution _ . 

“Francis,” Arthur whispered, cursing under his breath. It was a clear message. They knew where Arthur and Elizabeth were and they would stop at nothing. 

“He found us,” Elizabeth whimpered from behind Arthur. She had followed him into the room and leaned over his shoulder to read the message. “What are we going to do?” 

“We have to go,” Arthur replied after a long silence. “We can’t leave any trace behind. It’s too dangerous to stay here.” 

Elizabeth nodded solemnly. “I’ll go pack.” 

“Right,” Arthur murmured. He stood frozen as Elizabeth left the room. After a moment, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Alfred’s number. 

“Yo dude,” Alfred answered, the sound of a busy fast food joint in the background. “What’s up?” 

“Francis found us.” Arthur told him. He explained about the little attacks that had been brushed off before and about the most recent development. “Elizabeth and I are leaving. I’ll ditch this phone, which means I won’t be able to talk to anybody for a while.” 

“Wait a minute,” Alfred interrupted. “That sounds more dangerous. If something were to happen to you guys, we’d have no way to know, to help you.” 

Arthur grumbled to himself before answering. “Then do you have any bright ideas?” 

Alfred thought about it. “Lead him to believe that you’re leaving. You still have an old cell phone that you don’t use anymore? Go and dump that. He’s bound to be following you. Then take a really roundabout way to get home. Lay low. Don’t leave the house. Keep any and all curtains closed, et cetera, et cetera. I’ll do the whole false info drop in communications, you know the drill. No, I don’t want mayo on that. Anyway, I think that might work.” 

“You think?” Arthur sighed, holding up a hand to Elizabeth who walked in with a suitcase. 

“Should. How’s the little guy doing, by the way?” 

Arthur ruffled Daniel’s hair with a smile, “He’s a little shaken up, but he’s doing alright. I still won’t be able to talk as often though, since we’re going to be pretending that we’re not here. I think I’ll even purchase tickets to leave, just to throw them off track.” 

“Sounds good,” Alfred paused as he took a bite of something. “Stay safe.” 

“Will do,” Arthur nodded, hanging up the phone. 


	12. Fire

Arthur was in shock that Alfred’s half-assed plan had worked. Ever since Arthur and Elizabeth had gone deeper into hiding, nothing had happened. Daniel continued to grow. It had been years since he’d seen any of his country friends, though he remembered each of them vividly. The four year old never put up a fuss over not being able to go out; he was used to it by now. Alfred laughed at Arthur for staying in hiding for so long, said he was overreacting, it had been years and there were no more attacks. It was more or less a cold war at that point. Arthur had to say, he agreed with Alfred to a point. In fact, over the last week or so, Arthur had been debating coming out of hiding. Moving to a new house and returning to life as normal. 

If only he had done it sooner. 

It had to have been about two or three in the morning. Arthur had been woken by something, but he wasn’t sure what. Daniel was in his room down the hall, so that wasn’t it. Arthur brushed it off and rolled over, reaching for Elizabeth. The bed next to him was empty.  _ Must be in the bathroom _ , he thought. He started to doze off again when he heard the door open and then close. The room seemed to be getting warmer and Arthur wondered if Elizabeth had turned up the heater. 

“Daddy?” a quiet voice asked from the edge of the bed. Arthur felt a tugging at the sheets. 

Arthur yawned and rolled to look. Daniel was standing at the side of the bed, the stuffed eagle that Alfred gave him clutched in his hand. 

“Daniel.” Arthur mumbled, trying to wake up somewhat. “What’s wrong?” 

Daniel shuffled his feet. “It’s getting warm in my room, Daddy. And there’s a light that’s keeping me awake.” 

Arthur sat up and patted bed next to him. Daniel climbed up and curled up against Arthur’s side. Arthur looked at the door. Warm light and smoke was coming under it. A pit formed in Arthur’s stomach. He jumped off the bed, yelled for Daniel to stay put, and opened the door. 

Bright flames were making their way down the hall towards the bedroom door. Daniel’s room was completely blocked off by the fire. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief that his son had gotten out when he did. 

Arthur spun around. Daniel was cowering into the pillows. Arthur ran his hand through his hair. The heat was becoming stifling. Arthur scooped Daniel up in his arms, tucking the boy’s head into his chest. Arthur made a quick dash to the door, his grip on Daniel never loosening. The flames licked at Arthur's back as he moved past. Everything past the steadily growing fire was getting destroyed. Arthur could see his and Elizabeth's wedding picture on the wall, the flames creeping towards it. 

Shaking his head and focusing on the matter at hand, Arthur moved down the hallway towards the front door. 

"Daddy," Daniel coughed. "I can't breathe." 

The smoke was clouding the whole room. "I know," Arthur murmured. "Just a little further." 

Arthur bumped his knee into one of the side tables in the living room, knocking some of the objects on top of it to the floor. His cell phone landed on his foot, causing Arthur to curse. He quickly ducked to grab the device and made his way towards the door. 

Once safely outside, Arthur set Daniel down by a tree and dialed Alfred's number. 

"Dude, what's going on?" Alfred answered the phone. "You almost never call me any more." 

"My house is on fire," Arthur offered in lieu of hello. 

A clatter was heard from the other end of the phone. "What! Are you guys alright!" 

"We're fine." Arthur replied. "I've got Daniel right here and Elizabeth..." Arthur's stomach dropped. 

"Arthur?" Alfred's voice sounded from the other end of the phone. "Arthur, are you alright?" 

The phone slipped from Arthur's grasp. "No," he murmured to himself. "Elizabeth!" Arthur screamed, running back towards the house the was almost completely engulfed in flames.

Arthur flung open the front door and was hit by a blast of hot air. The bright flames licked the ceiling, blocking off almost the entire room. 

"Elizabeth!" Arthur cried out again, this time listening for an answer over the roar of the fire. 

He stepped carefully through the burning room, ducking when a falling beam almost hit him. 

"Elizabeth!" 

Once through the living room, Arthur deliberated between the kitchen and the hallway. He started down the hall, hoping he would get lucky when he heard a sound coming from the kitchen. 

He pushed open the door gently, but it crashed to the ground at his touch. The smoke was getting stronger and Arthur's eyes were watering to the point that he almost couldn't see. Fighting his way further, he noticed a form in a pale bathrobe laying on the tile floor. 

"Elizabeth!" Arthur cried out in relief. 

Elizabeth let out a weak cough as Arthur helped her to her feet. "I don't know what happened," she croaked out. "Someone must've come from behind me. I never saw it coming." 

"It's alright, love." Arthur murmured, ushering her towards the door. "Let's get out of here." 

Elizabeth looked around wide eyed. "Where's Daniel?" 

"Safe outside," Arthur replied. "Come on." 

The two made their way safely outside where Daniel was waiting, now joined by a friend. 

"How the bloody hell did you get here so quickly?" Arthur asked in shock. 

"The hero has his ways," Alfred answered with a wink. "Everyone alright?" 

Elizabeth sighed, "We are now." She knelt down and pulled Daniel to her and hugged him tightly. "Who could have done this?" 

Arthur glanced around, looking closer at the tree they were standing next to. "I think I might know." 

He pulled aside a branch to show a symbol carved into the trunk of the tree. A swastika. 


	13. War

A commercial for some local bookstore’s latest sale faded out and the tell tale music for the news station came back on. The camera landed on two newscasters, both holding silver iPads and appearing to converse casually with each other. 

Their names appeared at the bottom of the screen, as they did with every broadcast. Ella Wood flashed the camera a dazzling smile, her suit perfectly tailored and not a hair out of her place. Her companion, Andrew Patel, also smiled at the camera, with teeth that were a little too white and a little too straight. The camera finally settled and Andrew looked down at his tablet to see what the first story was while Ella patted an imaginary stray hair back into place. 

"Tensions have been growing between the former Allies and Axis powers. It seems a third world war is right on the horizon," Andrew began, looking at the camera dramatically. 

"Yes, though this time," Ella added somberly, "It appears that our once ally, France, is siding against us. French naval ships have been clogging up the English Channel. We have not received official word of their intent at this time.” 

“The Prime Minister has been working closely with the U.S. President to try and contact the French government. So far as we can tell, they are making plans to work out a peace treaty.” Andrew continued. 

Ella swiped at something on her iPad. “We now introduce military expert, Captain Maddison Sanders, to gain more insight on what exactly is going on. Maddison, hello.” 

The screen split, the picture of Andrew and Ella moving to the left while coverage of another woman appeared on the right of the screen. She had her brown hair in a tight bun and her military uniform was immaculate. 

“Hello,” she replied to Ella, rather stiffly. 

“So, with all this trouble appearing with the French, what does this mean for the rest of us?” Andrew asked, trying to break the ice. 

“Hard to tell,” Sanders answered. “We have no idea what the French’s motives are. They’ve not tried to contact us yet. We don’t even know for sure if they’re going to be hostile towards us, they are beefing up their military. We’ve been told there is a possibility of an alliance between France and Germany.” 

Ella looked troubled. “But isn’t the point of the United Nations to prevent those kinds of alliances from forming? Why is no one doing anything yet?” 

Sanders nodded. “They’re still deliberating. We have no concrete proof of an alliance between the two sides. Until we can get the go ahead to go into France and what exactly they’re doing in there.” 

“So until we know where everyone stands, what are some safety measures people can take in the meantime?” Andrew asked, trying to steer the conversation. 

Sanders shifted on her feet and seemed to weigh her words carefully. “We’ve decided to implement bomb sirens again. We know that they saved lives in the last world war and, in the event that something should happen, they may save lives again.” 

“But how at risk are we for a bombing?” Ella asked. 

Sanders hesitated before answering. “We don’t know.” 

The entire studio sat in awkward silence before Andrew spoke up. “Well, thank you for joining us today, Captain…” 

“What’s that noise?” Ella interrupted him. 

The studio went silent again and a faint noise was heard. Some kind of an alarm was going off in the distance. It became louder and louder until someone finally realised what it was. 

“Bomb siren.” Andrew whispered. 

There was a flurry of movement as everyone started running towards the exits. A whistling sound could be heard over the sound of the siren. People started screaming as an explosion was heard. The screen turned a fiery red before being covered with smoke. Then static. 


	14. Confrontation

Arthur sat in Alfred’s study, staring out the window. His arm was in a sling, a walking cane leaned up against the chair he was sitting in. After the house fire and the bombings in London, Arthur wasn’t in the best of shape. The war had been dragging on for about three years now and Arthur was surprised he wasn’t worse off. 

Alfred had decided that it was safest for the three of them if they came to stay with him, so Arthur relocated his wife and child yet again. Alfred’s house in Washington DC was a large, colonial affair. It had enough rooms to house ten people, assuming each person had their own room. From the front of the house, one could see the front porch and two balconies above, with red, white, and blue banners stretching across them. The paint was a faded out burgundy, the trim a spotless white. Apple trees grew around the property, which Daniel had discovered were fun to climb. 

Tired of sitting down, Arthur grabbed his walking stick and got up out of the chair, deciding he needed some fresh air. He slowly made his way through the second floor to the stairs. The sound of his cane on the hardwood echoed through the empty house. Alfred had insisted on taking Daniel on a tour of the National Mall and Elizabeth decided to go with them. Arthur had opted to stay behind. 

He slowly limped down the stairs, and made his way to the front door. The warm summer air caressed Arthur’s face as he opened the door and took a step outside. He hesitated before going down the porch steps. Something felt off. Arthur had a sinking feeling that something bad was about to happen. 

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and phoned Alfred. 

“Hey, you alright?” Alfred answered on the second ring. 

“Yes, are you guys?” Arthur replied quickly. 

Alfred quietly replied to someone in the background. “Yeah, all good here.” 

“You’re sure that everyone is safe?” Arthur asked urgently. 

“Here’s your corndog, little man.” Alfred sighed quietly. “Dude, this place is crawling with secret service agents. I’m not letting either of them out of my sight. Relax. You can trust me and my people to protect them.” 

Arthur sighed in return. “I’m sorry, I must just be paranoid…” 

A bullet whizzed by Arthur’s head and lodged itself in the wood of the door frame behind him. He dropped the phone and ducked to the ground. 

“Arthur?” Alfred’s voice sounded from the end of the receiver. “Arthur, what’s going on? Are you alright? Arthur?!” 

Arthur reached for the phone when a black boot appeared and stepped on it, shattering the phone to pieces. Arthur looked up into the eyes of a man he had once considered a friend. 

“Francis.” 

“Arthur,” Francis smiled menacingly. “It’s been too long. You should have told me you had moved.” 

“And lead you right to me and my family?” Arthur slowly started getting to his feet. “Fat chance.” 

Arthur straightened as much as he could, looking Francis in the eye. 

“Just as stubborn as before.” Francis muttered before punching Arthur in the stomach. 

Arthur fell backwards, doubling over. He crashed into a rocking chair on the porch before falling down. 

“I’m impressed Francis,” Arthur groaned, “Leading your own offensive instead of following behind whoever has the best chance of winning.” 

Francis’ face contorted in rage. He bent down and grabbed Arthur’s hair, lifting him off the ground slightly. He kicked Arthur in the stomach repeatedly until he started spitting out blood. 

“Where is he?" Francis snarled in Arthur's ear. 

"As if I would tell you," Arthur choked, spitting some blood onto Francis' boot. 

Francis let out an almost animal sounding growl, lifting up his booth as though he were going to stomp on Arthur. Arthur took his chance and rolled out of the way, supporting himself with his good arm and shakily getting to his feet. 

Francis and Arthur locked eyes in a tense standoff. In his peripheral vision, Arthur noticed that Francis' gun had come loose and was now laying on the ground a few feet to the Frenchman's right. A plan began to form in Arthur's mind. It was a half-assed plan, but it wasn't supposed to last long. Arthur could already hear sirens in the distance, and they were getting louder. He just needed to stay alive. 

Francis stared intensely at Arthur, watching carefully as Arthur bent and grabbed his cane. They stood facing each other silently before Arthur did something neither one of them fully expected. Arthur threw his cane at Francis, barely missing his left shoulder. Surprised, Francis turned to look at the cane as it flew past. 

Arthur took this opportunity to dive for the gun, grabbing it and turning onto his back to face Francis. Francis stormed over to him as Arthur pulled the trigger. 

Francis paused, grabbing at his left shoulder just above his heart. Police cars pulled onto the street, closely followed by Alfred's truck. The passenger door of the truck flew open and Elizabeth leaped out, running straight for Arthur, Alfred right behind her. 

With the help of the both of them, Arthur got back on his feet and looked down at Francis, who was rolling on the ground in pain. Paramedics raced past the trio, some stopping to see if Arthur was alright. 

Elizabeth clung to Arthur's arm. "Is it over?" 

Daniel ran over to them, a uniformed officer watching over him. Arthur pulled his wife and son close to him. 

 

"Yes. It's finally over." 


	15. Epilogue: Nineteen Years Later

Arthur wandered across the vast lawn, a fresh bouquet of red roses in his hand. This was the second time this month that he’d come here, more than usual. But it was coming up on that time of year and he really needed solace. 

He knew when he passed the large oak tree that he was getting close. He thought back to that last night, the ending of the last good day. 

 

_ The cancer had really started to take it’s toll. She had been diagnosed only a few months before, and it was obvious that Elizabeth would not last the 3-5 years given to her by the doctor.  _

_ Arthur walked into the room, carrying a tray of Elizabeth’s favourite tea, hoping it would cheer her up. Not much made her truly smile anymore, the pain was too much. Daniel tried several times to leave university to help her, but she refused to allow him to postpone his education for her.  _

_ Elizabeth sat up in her bed and smiled at Arthur, the closest she had gotten to her real smile in weeks. Her glow was gone. Her skin was dry and brittle, her cheek bones jutted out angrily from her face. What was left of her hair hung down in limps strands, held out of the way by the bandana she kept wrapped around her head.  _

_ Arthur set down the tea tray next to her bed, helping her as she shakily tried to pick up a cup of tea.  _

_ "How is it?" He asked nervously.  _

_ "Warm, sweet, how I like it," Elizabeth replied with a soft smile.  _

_ "You know that's not what I meant," Arthur smirked, sitting down in his chair by her bedside.  _

_ She sighed, lowering the tea cup. "Better. The pain has subsided a little. Breathing was easier. It seems silly, but I think things are starting to look up." She glanced over at Arthur, who was staring at her. "What?"  _

_ He shook his head. "Just thinking about the day we first met."  _

_ "A chance meeting." Elizabeth smiled. "You had your nose buried in a book."  _

_ "How else could I have not noticed someone as beautiful as you until I walked right into you!"  _

_ Elizabeth's smile fell. "Was. As beautiful as I was."  _

_ Arthur took her hand, which was all skin and bones, and held it close to his lips. "I love thee with a love that shall not die, till the sun grows cold and the stars grow old. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind."  _

_ Elizabeth chuckled slightly. "Thank you, Shakespeare."  _

_ Arthur smiled before kissing her hand. "Glad to know you still get the reference."  _

_ "As if you would ever let me live it down if I didn't." Elizabeth answered.  _

_ The word live hung between them as the reality of the situation sank in. Elizabeth closed her eyes and leaned her head back on her pillow.  _

_ "Are you alright?"  _

_ "Just tired."  _

_ Arthur sat perched on the chair awkwardly as Elizabeth rolled over and pulled the blanket over her with a frail arm. He stood up and leaned over her.  _

_ "Good night, love," Arthur whispered before kissing her on the top of her head.  _

_ ~~~~~~~~~~~~ _

_ It was pure luck that Arthur had woken up at 2:34 that morning. It took him a moment before his brain acknowledged the muffled gasps coming from the bed next to him. He rolled over quickly and looked at Elizabeth.  _

_ Her eyes were closed and she couldn’t seem to be able to draw in a complete breath.  _

_ “Lizzy, are you alright?” Arthur asked desperately, unsure of what to do.  _

_ “Arthur?” She whispered, her voice scratchy. She opened her eyes, but they stared blankly ahead of her. “Arthur? Are you there? I can’t see you.”  _

_ Arthur’s eyes welled up with tears, he knew this was it. He grabbed her hand and held it tightly. “I’m right here for you. I’m right here. You’ll be fine.”  _

_ “Arthur,” she whispered.  _

_ He felt for her pulse in her wrist. It was barely there.  _

_ “Arthur, promise me something,” She turned her head towards him, tears flowing down her face.  _

_ “Anything,” he choked, trying to hold himself together.  _

_ “Promise me…” she gasped and for a second, Arthur thought he felt her pulse stop. “Promise me…that you won’t beat yourself over me. Promise that you won’t waste the rest of your existence pining over my death. Don’t forget me, but move on. For your own sake.”  _

_ “I promise.” Arthur sobbed, not able to hold it back. Elizabeth’s breaths got shallower. “I promise that I will honour you. I’ll celebrate your birthday, I’ll go to your favourite restaurant.” Elizabeth’s grip on his started to go slack. “You know the one, where I proposed.” Her head fell to the side and finally, inevitably, her heart stopped.  _

_ “I promise, Lizzy.” Arthur sobbed into her hand, still clasped in his. “I love you so much.”  _

_ He felt as though his heart had been ripped out of his chest. A part of him had died along with her. His soul mate was gone.  _

_ Arthur sat there, holding her hand, he didn’t know how long. Even after the shock was gone, he didn’t know what to do. Now that a piece of him was missing.  _

 

Ever since then, Arthur made a habit of putting a bouquet of roses on Elizabeth’s grave once a month. More on important dates, like birthdays, their anniversary, her death date. That was why Arthur was visiting the cemetery a second time this month. It was approaching the six year anniversary of her death. 

Arthur looked across the rows of gravestones to hers. He could see the decaying flowers that he had left there a week ago. Then something else caught his eye. A family was making their way among the tombstones, drawing closer to Elizabeth’s. The father was holding a bouquet of flowers, followed by his wife and a little girl who couldn’t have been more than a few years old. Arthur had a sneaking suspicion as to who it was, which was confirmed when the man stopped and knelt in front of Elizabeth’s grave. 

Daniel picked up the decaying bouquet that was already there, an obviously perplexed look on his face. He placed the fresh flowers on the grave, seemed to say a few words, before gesturing for the little girl to join him. He wrapped his arm around the girl and started whispering in her ear.  _ That’s my granddaughter _ , Arthur realised with a start. 

Ever since Elizabeth had died, Arthur became more and more distant from his son. And the feeling was mutual. Daniel blamed his father for not being able to be there when his mother dies. Arthur wanted to keep Daniel as safe as possible, and that meant making him forget everything about the countries. Including alienating his own son. 

Daniel turned his head and saw Arthur waiting in the shadow of the oak tree. He said something else to the girl before getting up and leaving. 

Arthur made his way down to Elizabeth’s gravestone and set his flowers next to Daniel’s. He opened his mouth to say something when he noticed a note resting under Daniel’s flowers. 

_ Dad _

It read, 

_ Sorry about all these years. I know Mom wouldn’t want it like this. If you wanna catch up, meet Lisette, call me. _

_ -Daniel  _

A number was scribbled at the bottom of the paper. Arthur held it close to his chest as he made his way out of the cemetery. Once in his car, Arthur looked down at the note. Lisette. That must be his granddaughter. A war waged in Arthur’s head as he thought. Finally, he pulled out his phone and dialed the number on the paper. 

“Hello?” a voice answered. 

“…Daniel?” Arthur asked after a moment. 

“Dad,” Daniel replied. 

Finally, Arthur understand his promise to Elizabeth he’d made in those last few moments. “I’m sorry.” 


End file.
